


it beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good

by freefallvertigo



Category: UnREAL (TV)
Genre: F/F, PWP, Smut, quinn is a bottom for rachel if u think otherwise ur blind and a terrible person, rachel is a bit of a sadist and quinn absolutely loves it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 10:18:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14018112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freefallvertigo/pseuds/freefallvertigo
Summary: Rachel tries to quit Everlasting, unaware of just how far Quinn is willing to go in order to get her to stay.





	it beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good

**Author's Note:**

> if s&m isn’t ur thing then this fic probably isn’t either lol

Rachel took a deep breath.

Presently, she was standing outside of Quinn’s office, working up the courage to knock. On any other day, Rachel wouldn’t have spared a single thought about storming in unnanounced because Quinn usually didn’t mind all that much when it came to Rachel. Today, unfortunately, wasn’t any other day. Today, Rachel had an announcement to make which she was certain would rock the boat - and maybe even land one or both of them in deep and dangerous waters. Their relationship had been good lately, a period of relative smooth sailing that Rachel had been cherishing. She feared she was about to bring that all crashing down. She _really_ didn’t want to have to do this. 

Rachel shook her head and turned around. Then she stopped and faced the door again. This was stupid. Surely, if Quinn cared as much about her as she led her to believe, the news she was about to break would make her happy. She’d be glad Rachel was putting herself first. At least, that’s what she told herself. 

“Screw it,” She breathed, before clenching her fist and raising it to the wood.

However, a split second before her knuckles made contact with the door, it swung open to reveal Quinn standing on the other side. She looked pissed even before she registered Rachel standing there with her fist still suspended uselessly in the air. 

”You. Get in here,” Quinn stepped aside to allow Rachel in. “Now.”

Rachel obeyed. As soon as she was past the threshold, Quinn slammed the door behind her and stalked over to her desk. She perched herself on the edge of it, rolled the sleeves of her blazer up to her elbows, and crossed her arms over her chest. Rachel had a bad feeling about the daggers Quinn was boring into her. 

“Uh, is everything okay?” Rachel asked when Quinn didn’t say anything. 

“I don’t know, Rachel, why don’t you tell me?” Quinn spat her name out of her mouth like it was poison. “I just got off the phone with a friend of mine. Strangest thing, she heard through the grape vine that one Rachel Goldberg might be leaving my show to produce some fancy new documentary about war in the Middle East or some crap. Called to make sure I was aware. Because, you know, that’s what _friends_ do. I told her no way, you must be mistaken. My Rachel wouldn’t do that. My Rachel wouldn’t take interviews elsewhere without telling me, right?”

Rachel laughed awkwardly, shoving her hands into her back pockets and looking down at her shoes. “Right. See, that’s actually why I came here just now. I wanted to talk to you about this before you found out from somebody else but... Well.”

”Well? Well what?” Quinn threw her hands up into the air, blatantly exasperated. “It’s been four days since the interview, Rachel. You’ve seen me every day since then. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

”Because they hadn’t offered me the job and I wasn’t sure I wanted to take it anyway,” Rachel explained. “Plus, I wanted to avoid all of this.”

Rachel gestured in Quinn’s general direction and in return, Quinn narrowed her eyes. Rachel noted that everything about her seemed sharper today. Her makeup, her anger, even her heels. Anybody else might have been intimidated. Thankfully, Rachel had grown accustomed to Quinn’s hostile nature a long time ago. She’d learned to cope with it. Admire it, even.

“So what’s changed now? Have you heard back from them? What did they say?” Quinn asked impatiently.

”Yeah, actually, I just got off the phone with them and they’re offering me the job,” Rachel said. She smiled enthusiastically at Quinn, hopeful but not optimistic that she would react reasonably to this. “Travel and accommodation expenses are included and it’s a chance for me to produce something that I actually care about. I think that this would be, like, really good for me and I would love it if you could see if that way, too, Quinn. I mean this was our dream from the beginning, wasn’t it?”

Quinn remained a statue, cold and stony. “Did you accept their offer already?”

”I told them I would come speak to you and call them right back,” Rachel’s enthusiasm started to fade. “I appreciate everything that you've taught me throughout the years, I honestly do, but you said yourself that I need to get out while I still have a chance. _This_ is my chance.”

”Mm-hm,” Quinn nodded. She turned around, picked up a bottle of whiskey and poured herself a generous glass. “Well, here’s how I see it, Rachel. Everlasting is in trouble, _I’m_ in trouble, and you decided to bail the sinking ship before it dragged you down. Is that right?”

“God, would that be such a terrible thing?” Rachel demanded. “To save myself? To save my career?”

”If it means abandoning the person who created you, who saw something in you from day one, when they need you the most? Then yes,” Quinn took a step in Rachel’s direction. “If this show is going to survive I need you, Goldie. Without you we don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell. You get that, don’t you?”

Rachel, frustrated but not surprised, locked her hands together atop her head and clenched her jaw. “You’re putting me in a really difficult position here.”

”Oh, I’m putting you in a difficult position?” Quinn barked a cruel laugh. “That’s rich.”

”You’re asking me to commit career suicide,” She argued, raising her voice. “Jesus, Quinn, I don’t have anything to fall back on if this doesn’t work out. I don’t have your fancy house and industry-wide notoriety. All I have is this one small window of opportunity and it’ll close fast if I don’t run for it.”

”But we can make this work!” Quinn assured her. “We’ve come close to death before, Rachel, but we’re stubborn. We’re warriors. We can do this, I know it.”

”Look, I don’t know...” Rachel looked to the ceiling for answers. “Your word isn’t enough for me, anymore. My future is at stake here.”

”Okay. How about this?” Quinn set her glass down on the coffee table beside Rachel and took both her hands in her own. “I will make you a guarantee that whatever happens, you will always have a place by my side. Even if Everlasting goes under, I’ll have options, and I won’t do a damn thing without you. And if we do salvage it then to hell with it, Rachel. You can have a raise. A promotion. A fucking crown and cape if you want. Just stay. Please. You’re my last lifeline, here.”

Rachel considered Quinn’s offer. She had to admit, she was rather enjoying her desperation. Rachel had never seen her beg anybody for anything before and it left her feeling strangely smug. She wondered just how far Quinn was actually willing to go to keep her around. Which is when a thought occurred to her.

”You seriously want me to stay that bad?” She asked.

”Rachel, you are my legacy,” Quinn said, resorting to flattery in order to win Rachel over. “I have spent a decade grooming you. If you leave now... Hey, I’m serious about the crown, I will buy you one if that’s what it takes. Solid gold and everything.”

It dawned on Rachel then that she was in a totally unique position. Typically, Quinn was always the one with the upper hand. She was always the one who had what everybody else wanted. Except right now, the tables were turned, and Rachel found herself at an unforeseen advantage. Quinn needed _her_ this time. That was an amazing feeling. Deciding what to do with this new leverage she had inadvertently stumbled across wasn’t all that hard. There had been something Rachel had wanted from Quinn for years. The time had come for her to collect. 

“Keep the crown, Quinn,” Rachel was smiling once more as she reached past Quinn and picked up her previously discarded drink. “There’s something else I want.”

She never broke eye contact with Quinn as she took a sip of the whiskey, her eyes gleaming something wicked. Rachel sat down on the sofa and stretched one arm across the back of it. Quinn’s sculpted eyebrow was arched; her interest piqued.

”Name it.”

”I want you to get on your knees,” Rachel spoke slowly, her words rich with arrogance and superiority. 

“Excuse me?” Quinn appeared to be genuinely amused at the proposition, mistaking it for a joke. “That’s... That’s funny. But come on, Rachel, just tell me what I can do to make you stay.”

Rachel shrugged nonchalantly. “I just told you. I want to bring the great Quinn King to her knees. You do that for me and I’ll stay. You have my word.”

“Rach, are you...” Quinn read Rachel’s expression with an uncertain half-smile on her face. She sought out clues as to whether Rachel was just trying to be funny but she came up short. “Holy shit. You’re not kidding, are you?”

Rachel’s eyes flickered towards the floor at her feet in response. 

“My, my, Goldberg. You really are full of surprises,” Quinn was laughing purely to mask her nerves but Rachel, to her delight, saw right through it. She’d have been lying if she’d said that she didn’t get a kick out of making Quinn squirm. “Really? That’s what you want?”

”Deal’s off the table in five seconds,” Rachel said, holding up five fingers and counting them down one by one. 

“Fine, fine,” Quinn succumbed on the third finger. “Just... hang on.”

Quinn walked over to the door. With her hand on the lock, she looked over her shoulder to find Rachel watching her closely. Quinn hesitated for just a second. She twisted her wrist. The lock slid into place. Rachel grinned as Quinn, shaking her head the whole time, returned to her place in front of Rachel. She looked her boss up and down, eyes hitching not-so-subtlety on the relatively low cut of her blouse. 

“What are you waiting for?” Rachel asked. “On your knees, Quinn.”

”God, I ha-“

”Uh-uh,” Rachel wagged a disapproving finger at Quinn mockingly, before turning it downwards and pointing to the ground. 

Quinn so obviously wanted to insult Rachel six ways to Sunday but Rachel knew she wouldn’t risk losing her just so that she could have the last say. So instead, without another word, Quinn pushed the table out of the way and then turned her body completely towards Rachel. Quinn, indignant as she was, resorted to conveying her annoyance by glaring at Rachel while she sunk slowly to her knees. Rachel swirled the whiskey in the glass as Quinn found her place a matter of centimetres from the toes of Rachel’s shoes. 

“Look at that,” Rachel was smirking. “You’re a natural.”

”Right. Well, here I am, on my knees,” Quinn looked expectantly up at Rachel, waiting to be excused. “Are we done? Did you want to take a picture?”

Rachel sat upright and leaned in close to Quinn. As she did so, all remnants of humour vanished from her face, replaced instead by some kind of intense longing. Quinn tried and failed to maintain her disgruntled demeanour, letting slip just how passive she really was when Rachel’s cold fingers grazed over her neck and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes darted to Rachel’s to see if she’d caught on. Her knowing beam suggested she had. In an effort to mask her embarrassment, Quinn stared straight ahead rather than look directly at Rachel.

At first, Rachel’s touch was soft. However, after she had traced Quinn’s jawline with her index finger, she took a firm hold of her face. Her fingers pressed deep into Quinn’s cheeks and Quinn couldn’t help the consequent wince. She collected herself almost instantly afterwards but it was too late. 

“Doesn’t feel too good, does it?” Rachel sneered. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quinn said, knowing full well what kind of an effect her callous reply would have on reliably volatile Rachel. 

“I’m talking about this,” Her brown eyes turned darker and she squeezed tighter still. “About being under somebody’s thumb. About feeling inferior.”

“Poor you,” Quinn retorted sarcastically. Her heart was racing and it wasn’t because she was afraid. Riling Rachel up has always been a favourite pastime of hers and now she suspected she had a whole other means of reaping pleasure from it. 

“No, not me. Not anymore.”

Rachel took a rough hold of Quinn’s elbows and pulled her sharply up so that, instead of sitting on her haunches, Quinn’s hips were now between Rachel’s legs. The sudden movement caused Rachel to tip her glass a little too far and subsequently, the remaining contents of it spilled straight onto Quinn’s white shirt, soaking it through and through. Quinn flinched, then regarded the damage done with no small amount of vexation. No doubt it had been expensive and Rachel relished in that fact. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Rachel apologised with faux remorse, making no great effort to conceal the fact that the spillage may not have been so accidental after all. “Look at you. You’re dripping wet.”

”It’s fine,” Quinn spoke through gritted teeth. 

“No, it isn’t,” Rachel tugged at the collar. “I guess you’re going to have to take it off.”

Rachel hadn’t said it as a polite suggestion, rather as a demand masquerading behind false concern. Quinn’s eyes held in them a dare, a spark of defiance, when she looked across at Rachel then. But Rachel was in no mood for games. She wanted Quinn’s complete obedience, like she always had from Rachel. She wanted her to submit. One way or another, however much Quinn might defy her at first, she would get what she wanted. 

”Take it off,” She instructed. 

”Make me,” It was Quinn’s turn to be smug.

Rachel was going to wipe that look off her face. She held the lapels of her blazer and closed the distance between them until their mouths were almost touching. Quinn closed her eyes, anticipating the moment their lips met. That moment never came. Instead, Rachel proceeded to forcefully remove her jacket, yanking the sleeves off of her arms before tossing it carelessly across the room. Then she set to work on the buttons of Quinn’s blouse. 

While Rachel unfastened the first few buttons, her forehead remained pressed against Quinn’s and she could see her aching for their lips to find one another. Rachel didn’t grant her the satisfaction. Not yet. After the task of unbuttoning her became tedious, Rachel decided to cut corners. She tore the shirt apart in her hands, which didn’t prove too difficult given how thin the fabric was, and let it fall straight off of Quinn’s back. Rachel pulled back. Quinn resisted the urge to chase her. 

“Don’t make me take that off for you, too,” Rachel said, nodding towards Quinn’s black bra. “Trust me when I say you’ll regret it.”

”Is that so?” Quinn asked mockingly. Except this time, she decided not to test Rachel. She reached behind her back, unclasped the bra, and pulled the straps down over her arms. The bra fell to the floor too, right on top of the ruined shirt.

”If I’m gonna keep working here,” Rachel said, drinking in the view of Quinn’s exposed upper body. “You’re going to learn to start respecting me. If not out there, then at the very least in here.”

Before Quinn could make the mistake of biting back with another teasing remark, Rachel preemptively shut her up by crashing their mouths together and engaging her in a hungry, lustrous kiss. The noise Quinn made at the initial contact was one of both shock and desire and it sent a ripple of gratification throughout Rachel’s body. Until that point, she hadn’t realised just how turned on she was. Then, when she lifted Quinn up onto her lap by her thighs, she felt a pleasant heat stirring between her legs. 

Now that Quinn was straddling her, Rachel was eye level with her breasts. She tore herself away from the kiss and, whilst tightly holding both of Quinn’s arms behind her back, took one of her nipples in her mouth and began to suck on it. She let it get messy; let her teeth graze and nick and scratch the flesh of and around the areola. Quinn’s breathing had picked up considerably. Rachel could feel the pacy rise and fall of her chest and it only served to fuel her fire.

Without warning, she reversed their positions, flipping Quinn onto her back and then climbing on top of her. She put her hands around Quinn’s throat and applied a slight amount of pressure as she went back to kissing her. The kiss was rough and bruising, almost hateful. Rachel had waited a very long time for this. Years of unaddressed frustration bubbled to the surface, and it felt almost as though her blood was cooking beneath her skin.

As it happened, Rachel’s tongue didn’t need to force itself into Quinn’s mouth because her lips had already parted to welcome it home. Quinn knew that would disappoint Rachel; she knew that making it easy for her would only serve to aggravate her further.

She was right. 

Rachel bit down on Quinn’s lower lip and Quinn grunted in pain. Rachel smiled against Quinn’s mouth when the coppery taste of blood wet her lips. The next time her tongue entered Quinn’s mouth, it felt just the right amount of dirty and offensive. Each time Quinn winced at the sting of Rachel’s unrelenting passion, Rachel only became more determined to keep going. Eventually, just as Quinn was beginning to become familiar with this particular brand of pain, Rachel sat up and looked down at Quinn, who was breathless and flushed but still not quite hers. Removing one hand from around her neck, she wiped the blood from Quinn’s lip with her thumb.

”That all you got, Goldberg?” Quinn strained to speak while Rachel’s hand was all but wringing her throat.

“Not even close, babe,” Rachel taunted.

After finally shrugging off her zip hoodie, Rachel turned her attention to Quinn’s belt. Quinn arched her back a little so that when Rachel yanked the belt free it came off with ease. Rachel held it in her hands. She considered its many uses, and Quinn could see the thrill of sadistic possibility light up her face. After settling on one solitary purpose (for now), Rachel used the belt to bind Quinn’s wrists together as tight as the accessory would allow.

Rachel dismounted Quinn. When Quinn made to get up and follow her, Rachel stopped her by shoving her flat against the cushions of the sofa.

”I didn’t tell you to move,” Rachel sounded like sub-zero felt. 

Quinn had goosebumps. 

As Quinn lay on her couch, hands bound and chest bare, Rachel circled her once and then twice. She moved slowly and carefully, as if every step had been cautiously considered. She soon came to a stop beside her legs. Rachel crouched down and removed Quinn’s heeled boots one at a time. Then she placed her hands behind Quinn’s knees and dragged her body in, guiding her into a posture similar to that which Rachel had been in before. Quinn realised that their initial roles had been reversed; Rachel was practically on her knees and Quinn was sitting on the sofa above her. She wondered where this was headed.

Rachel ran her hands up Quinn’s legs. Her left hand stopped short at the calf but her right hand kept going and it didn’t settle until it found the silver button at the hem of her trousers. She circled the outline of it a few times. Quinn didn’t know which she hated more, that Rachel was drawing this all out or that she cared so goddamn much. 

“Will you just-“ Quinn started, cutting herself off the very second she realised that she was about to admit just how desperate she was for Rachel to touch her. 

“What?” Rachel prompted. “Finish your sentence.”

”Just get this over with,” Quinn’s eye roll didn’t have half the effect she’d hoped simply because they both knew that her sentence hadn’t actually been bound to end that way. 

Rachel made no such attempts to cover up how much she was enjoying this. She popped Quinn’s button, unzipped her, and then undressed her all the way down to her thong while her whole body thrummed with the exhilaration of control. Once Quinn’s trousers had been removed, she was almost entirely exposed to Rachel. Rachel herself was still fully dressed, if missing a few outer layers. Something about that, about Quinn’s vulnerability versus her own guarded security, gave her a rush she couldn’t explain. She was dizzy with the high of authority. Was this how Quinn felt all the time?

“I can give you what you want, Quinn,” Rachel teased. She parted Quinn’s legs with the open palm of her hand and nestled her body into the opening she had created. “You just have to ask me for it. Admit how much you want it. Beg.”

“I don’t beg,” Quinn insisted, holding her ground even when Rachel lifted one of Quinn’s legs and allowed her to prop her foot up on her shoulder while she planted soft kisses along the inside of her thigh.

Rachel kept going until she was a hair’s breadth from Quinn’s thong. She found a tender spot in the crease of her leg in which to sink her teeth and lips. As soon as she did so, Quinn involuntarily released a gasp of pleasure, but Rachel saw frustration in the slant of her brow. Rachel was so close to hitting the spot but not close enough. 

“Are you positive about your stance on begging?” Rachel baited. She had Quinn backed into a corner now; it was only a matter of time. 

“Screw you,” Quinn hissed. 

Rachel dug her nails into the flesh of Quinn’s arm. When her mouth formed an _O_ shape in response to the sudden stab of pain, Rachel - lover of cheap and nasty tricks - spat into her open mouth and then charged into her and clamped her jaw shut with her hands. 

“Do not fuck with me, Quinn,” She warned directly into Quinn’s ear, her voice low and full of controlled rage. “You’re not the one in charge right now. Do you understand?”

Resignedly, Quinn nodded - not an easy task with Rachel holding her jaw firmly in place. Rachel maintained that position until she was sure her message had been received loud and clear. She released her hold on Quinn but didn’t move away. Currently, she was sitting with her knees on either side of Quinn’s naked leg, one knee pressed into her crotch. She saw Quinn falter; saw her eyes betray her as they stole a glance down. 

Rachel intentionally pressed herself further in and Quinn stifled a whimper. Suffice it to say, Rachel found that extremely hot. 

“I can feel how wet you are through my jeans,” Rachel growled.

She started to grind against Quinn’s leg, her every movement causing her knee to knead deeper into Quinn’s hot centre. Her own crotch rubbed up against Quinn’s leg and, to her astonishment, Quinn was now reciprocating the movements. She bowed her thigh upwards so that Rachel’s amateur lap dance resulted in as much fulfilment for her as it did Quinn.

“Rachel...” Quinn panted her name with her eyes half closed. 

Rachel was wearing her down. She could physically feel Quinn unravelling beneath her, coming undone a little more each time Rachel’s hips rocked back and then forth. All she needed now was a little push in the right direction. Rachel lowered her head into the curve of Quinn’s neck. She grabbed a fistful of dark hair in her hands and aggressively pulled it, forcing Quinn’s head back and thereby baring her throat to her in all its unmarked glory. She located Quinn’s weak spot, an area equidistant from her collarbone and the bottom of her ear, and went in for the kill. 

Rachel hadn’t actually intended to be so rough so soon, but with Quinn writhing beneath her and reacting so deliciously to the way Rachel sucked and nibbled on her neck it was impossible for her not to let herself get carried away. She dug her nails into the nape of Quinn’s neck and bit harshly down on her shoulder. No longer could Quinn surpress her moans, which were somehow pained but also urgent and just as hungry as Rachel. 

“Fuck me, Rachel,” The words had spilled out of Quinn’s mouth before she even knew she was going to say them. By the time she realised what she’d said, and that she’d been defeated, it was too late for her to care. She wanted this and she wanted it now. “Please. Fuck me.”

”Where?” Rachel spoke breathily. “Tell me where you want to get fucked, Quinn.”

”Desk,” Quinn answered, unable to articulate actual sentences with Rachel’s body moulded into her own like that, their curves and edges meshed together like two imperfect halves of a whole. 

Quinn was granted a reprise from Rachel’s weight on top of her, though whether it was appreciated or not was a different matter. Rachel dragged Quinn up from the couch by the belt around her wrists, leading her towards her desk. It was full of clutter: banal paperwork, picture frames, tabloid magazines. In seconds it was all in a mess on the floor, courtesy of Rachel’s flare for the dramatic. Quinn allowed Rachel to back her up against the desk. Relished in it, actually, especially when she found herself being hoisted up onto the surface and pushed onto her back. This was it. Rachel was really about to fuck her.

In her office.

On top of her desk.

Quinn wrapped her legs around Rachel’s waist eagerly. 

Rachel bent over her, holding Quinn’s hands down above her head and thrusting her tongue down her throat. It wasn’t romance and it wasn’t a fairytale. It was hot-blooded lust, raw and passionate and long overdue. Quinn wasn’t sure if Rachel was fuelled by anger or desire but she couldn’t see that it mattered because, whatever it was, it was working for her. Quinn couldn’t remember the last time she had been so turned on. She certainly couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed somebody to dominate her so completely, and she was loving every second of it.

Rachel broke away solely so that she could tear the T-Shirt off her back. Next thing, their bodies were glued together again and they were all sweaty skin and clashing limbs and teeth and nails. Rachel, with her lips fastened to Quinn’s stomach, let her hands have free roam of Quinn’s naked body. Her fingertips trailed along her hipbones excruciatingly slowly, eventually finding what it is that they’d been searching for. 

Quinn’s thong was soaked and warm to the touch. Rachel, almost as tired of all the teasing as Quinn was, stripped it off of her without wasting another moment. But, even with her hands hovering dangerously close to the warm source of all of Quinn’s frustration, Rachel still decided she wasn’t done having her fun with Quinn.

”Tell me you want me,” She said. “Say it.”

Quinn glowered up at her but ultimately gave in. She was too far gone to turn back now. “I want you, okay? I fucking want you, Rachel.”

Rachel didn’t know what it was about hearing Quinn admit that, or about hearing her name escape her lips in the sound of a needy rasp, that got to her so much. But it sent her over the edge. She closed her fist around Quinn’s throat as she finally plunged her fingers deep inside of Quinn and started to fuck her. All of Quinn’s ecstasy-fuelled moans were muffled by Rachel’s mouth or strangled out by her fist, which tightened its grip on her neck until she was audibly choking. The whole time, Quinn continued to arch her body and buck her hips, anything to deepen Rachel’s presence inside of her body and maximise her own pleasure.

”God, you’re so fucking wet.”

” _Rachel_ ,” Quinn exclaimed, over and over and over again until Rachel was sure she’d never grow tired of hearing her say it.  

Rachel slipped a third finger inside and forced herself in deeper still, stimulating Quinn’s clit with her thumb and causing her to contort her body into shapes she hadn’t known were possible. Quinn’s hands were still bound but that didn’t stop her from yanking Rachel in by her bra purely so that she could feel her heavy panting fall hot against her skin while she worked her over like a pro. 

“Who’s the boss, Quinn?” Rachel grilled her shamelessly. “Who’s the goddamn boss?”

”Y... You. You’re the boss,” Quinn stuttered through orgasmic moans. “You’re the boss. You’re the boss. You’re the- oh God, keep going. Don’t stop.”

Rachel picked up the pace, curling her fingers inside of Quinn while she bit down hard on the lobe of her ear. Quinn clutched at Rachel’s throat, dragging her nails across her skin and paying no mind to the beads of blood that surfaced at the base of her neck in the wake of her manicured weapons. She couldn’t help it. Her clit was swollen and on fire with with Rachel’s touch and every inch of her body ached to demolish the already intangible distance between them. It was like no matter how hard either of them held on, or how badly they bruised one another, it was just never enough. 

“Hurt me,” Quinn pleaded, a phrase she’d never before uttered in her life.

The words ignited a fuse inside Rachel. Her lip curled upwards into an almost sinister grin; this was one demand she was happy to meet. She withdrew from Quinn, her hand coming away slick and glistening in the lamp light. Quinn was on the verge of protesting when Rachel unbuckled the belt that had been serving as a set of makeshift restraints, pulled her up off the desk onto her feet, and then slammed her into the wall behind them. 

“You want me to hurt you?” Rachel purred, pinning her shoulders against the wall, trapping her there. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Here, in this light, while Quinn wasn’t too busy being tortured and fucked, she was able to get a good look at Rachel. There was a look on her face not entirely dissimilar to the way she used to get when she’d pulled off an elaborate scheme behind the scenes of the show, which involved a lot of manipulation and foresight and thinking three steps ahead. The shit Rachel lived for. Everybody had told them it was unhealthy and that the rush she got was toxic; a sign of addiction. 

If that was true, was this just her trading vices? 

Was Quinn to be her latest obsession?

There was a devil in Rachel’s smile and a forest fire behind her eyes, all things that screamed danger. But Quinn wasn’t afraid of it. She was drawn to it. The madness was so goddamn alluring and Quinn felt that she was ready to succumb to it. 

”Make me _feel_ something, Goldberg,” Quinn begged.

That was all the encouragement Rachel needed.

She peeled Quinn off of the wall only to grab onto her waist, spin her around, and slam into her body with her own so that Quinn was now pinned down with her back to Rachel and her cheek pressed to the wall. Rachel seized hold of Quinn’s arm and twisted it behind her back, eliciting from her a wounded groan.

“You’re mine,” Rachel’s lips grazed Quinn’s ear when she talked, sending electric shivers rolling over her in a tide of pure desire. “Say it.”

”I’m yours,” Quinn exhaled without an ounce of reluctance. 

Using her free hand, Rachel glided a finger down the centre of Quinn’s abndomen and located her soaking wet centre once more. Instead of picking up where she left off, she rubbed at the area in a circular motion, brushing past the clit but never lingering for long. Quinn, growing unbearably impatient, attempted to push herself into Rachel’s touch. Rachel twisted her arm harder and Quinn cried out in pain.

” _Shit_ , Rachel,” She gasped. “Please...”

”Please what?”

”Stop dicking around and fuck me.”

Rachel laughed. She loved this. She loved that she had rendered Quinn so submissive in such a short time. She let her wrist go, enabling Quinn to steady herself against the wall for when Rachel once more delved her fingers deep inside her and started to pound them into her, rough and frenzied and full of haste.

“Oh my God,” Quinn’s approval burst out of her. She reached behind her and pulled Rachel’s face in closer by her neck. 

While she was fucking her, Rachel pinched one of Quinn’s nipples between her thumb and index finger and twisted it violently. Her reaction was unhinging; each time Rachel caused Quinn to flinch or cry out it drove her crazy. Then Quinn took a hold of her hand and led it up towards her neck. Rachel simpered. She dug her nails into Quinn’s throat, clamped down, and started to squeeze. Quinn’s pulse was rapid at her fingertips, the expression of elation and intoxication on her face a thing of immense beauty to her. She continued to thrust into Quinn while she choked her. 

“I’m so close,” Quinn wheezed after thirty more seconds of that. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Rachel kept going, driving herself as deep into Quinn as she possibly could. She loosened her grip on her throat and allowed her breathe again. But Quinn wasn’t about to get off that easily. Rachel  brought Quinn’s hand to her mouth, at which point she proceeded to run her tongue along their length before sucking on them ravenously. Sucking soon became nibbling became biting. Quinn moaned fervidly. Then Rachel was pulling her hair again. Harshly. Mercilessly.

”Oh, fuck! Rachel...” Her name oozed out of Quinn’s mouth, dripping with want. 

Rachel forcefully turned Quinn’s head towards her so that she could capture her lips with her own and engross her in another filthy, maniacal kiss. Each time Quinn moaned into her mouth, Rachel fucked her harder and harder until the line between pain and pleasure became so blurred neither of them knew the difference. 

“I’m gonna come,” Quinn murmured urgently against Rachel’s tongue. 

“So come,” Rachel snarled in an animal-like manner. 

Rachel pounded ceaselessly into her, showing no signs of slowing even when Quinn’s spine arched inward and her eyes flew open. Her body started to convulse as a series of euphoric spasms swept over her and coursed throughout her entire body. She moaned Rachel’s name one last time as all of the tension she’d been working up under Rachel’s control was instantly released. Then she collapsed, exhausted and fulfilled, into Rachel’s arms. 

Rachel let her go.

Again, Quinn found herself falling to her knees at Rachel’s feet with Rachel sneering down at her. Her smile was cat-like and vindictive. 

“I told you,” She said, wiping her hands dry on her jeans. “You’re a natural.”

She picked up her T-Shirt, pulled it on over her head, and started to make her way back towards the door. Quinn’s voice stopped her just as she had finished turning the lock. 

“So you’ll stay?” She asked, voice barely a rasp after Rachel had choked most of it out of her. “You’ll stay with me at Everlasting?”

Rachel didn’t have to turn around for Quinn to know that she had a shit-eating grin on her face and a flush in her cheeks that would last for days. Quinn had yielded for her, finally, and Rachel would be damned if she was going to let that slip through her fingers so soon.

”I’ll think about it,” She chimed, before disappearing behind the other side of the door and leaving Quinn a breathless, naked heap on the floor. 

Quinn sighed. She regarded her ruined clothes, her tip of an office, and the stark bruises already starting to form on the skin around her wrists. 

”Shit.”


End file.
